


Rush

by DragonOfChanges



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drug Addiction, Dying Castiel, Graphic Depiction of Overdose, Graphic Depictions of Drug Use, Grief/Mourning, Homelessness, Human Castiel, I am so sorry, M/M, Prayer, Prostitution, Sick Castiel, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonOfChanges/pseuds/DragonOfChanges
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post Season 11. What becomes of Cas when the battle is over?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS!!  
> RATHER DARK-YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!!  
> Inspired by the song "Voodoo" by Godsmack.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens to Cas after the battle with Amara ends. This story mostly excludes the last episode of S11, and sets a slightly different stage for S12.

He had failed, over and over. Failed at being an angel. Failed Heaven and his Father. Failed humanity, which he was supposed to love and protect above all else. Every time he had tried to do the “right” thing, he made an abysmal mess of it. There had been vast suffering and death because of him-both in Heaven and on Earth. After every failure, his every death, he was returned to Earth as punishment. He always tried to atone, but only made things worse. This last time was no exception. In an effort to save Dean from the effects of the Mark of Cain, he’d helped Rowena and Crowley with the spell that cured it. The cure had worked, yes, but it also freed the Darkness. Many lives had been lost because of her. Because of him. Innocent human lives-including Charlies. Angelic lives-his brothers and sisters. And then, in an effort to help defeat the Darkness, he’d allowed Lucifer into his vessel and out of the Cage. Lucifer had fled his vessel when it looked as if Amara was going to win and had ripped out HIS Grace in the process, leaving him human, again. Thanks to him, the Morningstar walked free once more. Who knew what kind of destruction his fallen brother would cause if he was left unchecked.

When he finally regained consciousness-bruised, battered, and human-he was alone, far from where the battle had been waged. He didn't remember how he had escaped. He assumed that his continued existence meant that the fight had somehow been won, and Amara defeated, but that was not thanks to him. Apparently, he had ALSO run away. He had fled like the coward Lucifer. And at what cost? His friends lives’? The lives of other angels, of innocent humans? He had run and left them all to die at Amaras hands. Filled with shame at his behavior, he couldn’t bring himself to return to the Bunker or the battlefield. Not even to see if Sam and Dean HAD survived. He had betrayed them, again. Abandoned them. Again. There was no return this time. No redemption for these sins. He was fallen. Human. Alone. 

Six Months Later:

Cas- or “Manny” as he was now known-sat alone in the candle lit living room of the abandoned house in Pontiac, Illinois. He laughed at the sweet irony of returning in his disgrace to the very city where his “noble” journey had begun!! He propped himself against the moldering drywall. This was as good a place as any to crash for the night. At least it was dry, and mostly sheltered from the wind. Maybe he’d even manage to sleep a little while. He shivered, his clothing inadequate for the autumn weather. His favored coat and suit had long since been replaced. The clothes he now wore-stolen from a laundromat lost and found- were ragged and dirty. They hung loosely on him. More loosely than they had when he’d acquired them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered or shaved. Or eaten. It didn’t matter anyhow. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his next fix.

A few weeks after his latest great failure, he’d been hanging out with some “friends” he’d met at a homeless shelter in Detroit. (Irony, again, that HIS descent into “hell” should begin there, of all places) He’d been lonely, depressed, vulnerable. One of the men had offered to help him, to ‘take away his pain’. Naively, he’d accepted. Just this once, he thought. To feel better for a little while. One time was all it took, and he was lost. Now he sat in a ruined house, once again preparing to stick a needle into his arm. Chasing that next high, willing to do whatever it took to get it. Lying, stealing. Hell, he’d even traded himself in dirty alleyways or cheap motel rooms for cash, or for the drugs he needed so badly now. Anything was fair game. Anything was OK, to get that next high. Cas looked down at the myriad of track marks and bruises on both of his now too thin arms, wondering how he’d sunk so low. But this was no less than he deserved. He often considered suicide, but had decided that he didn’t even deserve to die. He deserved THIS. To live, as a coward. A betrayer. A failure. Useless. 

He’d bought the stuff from a different dealer this time. One he didn’t know well. Hopefully this was good shit. He NEEDED to escape again, just for a little while. He needed to forget. He’d had to buy more this time. His tolerance was getting pretty high, and the small dose he’d begun with did nothing for him anymore. He prepped up the hit, and pulled the tourniquet tight around his bicep. Felt the bite as he pushed the needle in, then pushed the plunger down. He felt a familiar sense of calm, of peace and wellbeing overtake him. He was sedated, medicated. Nothing could reach him. Not the pain, not the guilt or self-loathing, the shame- not even the memories of a Father who had abandoned him for...ages. A Father he no longer prayed to. Hadn't for a long time..

Forever, it seemed, he floated. It felt almost like flying. Or like having his wings and his Grace, again. This was new. The usual stuff didn’t do this, didn’t bring him to these heights. This WAS good! He groaned, laying back on the dirty wooden floor to enjoy the ride. But as he soared, he noticed it was getting hard to keep his eyes open. His vision began to grey around the edges. Everything became blurry, smeared. Like a bad watercolor painting. Suddenly he wasn’t floating or flying anymore. He was falling. Dropping fast. He was out of control. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He was drowning. Sinking. His world faded to black. His last coherent thought was “Dean, please forgive me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual non ownership stuff...


	2. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean POV chapter. This story mostly excludes the last episode of S11, and sets a slightly different stage for S12.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue this, finally, and make it more than a one shot!! Just to let those know who read it earlier, Chapter 1 has been edited, so you may want to go back and re-read before continuing on. I'm not sure where this work is going, really...

Sam rushed into Deans room in the Bunker, yelling at the top of his lungs and startling the older hunter from the first really sound sleep he’d had in a very long time. Instinct kicked in, and Dean was pointing the gun from under his pillow at the “intruder”.

“Dean, I FOUND him!!”

“Huh? Wha? Found who?” Dean lowered the gun, realizing it was just his moose of a brother. No threat here.

“Cas! I found Cas!!” He shoved the computer under Deans bleary eyes, ignoring the weapon in his hand. Dean blinked a couple of times to focus, and looked at what was on the screen. The page was that days’ edition of the Pontiac Times. Dean scanned the article as Sam went to get them both coffee. The gun lay abandoned on the bedside table.

 

UNIDENTIFIED HOMELESS MAN FOUND UNCONCIOUS IN ABANDONED HOUSE  
An unidentified homeless male was found late last night in an abandoned home in the 2100 block of Juniper Rd. Police had been called after neighbors noticed someone entering the condemned building. The male was unresponsive and was taken to a local hospital, where he is listed in critical condition. He has not regained consciousness. He had suffered a drug overdose. He had no license or other form of identification. Anyone with information about his identity is asked to contact the Pontiac Police Department.

 

Under the short article was a picture. He was thin, and bruised, but the person in that hospital bed was definitely Cas. Even if he couldn’t see his eyes, he KNEW. They had been searching for him ever since he vanished during the battle with Amara. Typically that meant looking for any unusual occurrence that could have been from an angel. This was not even a possibility they had considered. Sam returned from the kitchen with two steaming mugs. He handed one to Dean, who set it down on the nightstand next to his gun.

“Pontiac. What the hell was he doing in Pontiac? And he’s hurt-so he’s human again. What?” Dean muttered. He shook his head. “OK Sammy, pack up. We leave in 10.” Dean looked up at his brother.

“Already packed. I had a feeling we’d be headed out today.” Sam put a hand on his brothers’ shoulder. “We found him Dean. Finally. ”

“Overdose…what the fuck, Cas?”

“We’ll figure it out. Lets go”

 

Two days later, two very tired men entered Pontiac West Hospital. 

“How can I help you?’ asked the cute blond at the information desk, winking at Dean. Dean ignored her obvious attempt at flirtation.

“I think you have someone here I need to see. A John Doe in the ICU? Overdose? Brought in two days ago?”

“And your relation to him?" She asked. "The cops need to know who this guy is.” Dean took a deep breath. Time to play it up.

“He’s…he’s my fiancée. He vanished about six months ago. I thought he’d just left me…We had a fight…” Dean looked tearful. “I’m Dean Smith. This is my brother Sam. The man in that bed is Castiel. Castiel Wesson. Now may I please see him?” The blond looked disappointed.

“Sure. Just a few formalities, first. Does he have any other family?” Dean shook his head. 

"None that will speak to him since he came out." The clerk brought out a clipboard and pen. After filling out a few forms, and a short interview with a bored cop who seemed as if he could care less about some homeless addict, they were finally taken up to the ICU. The floor nurse did her best to prepare the boys.

“When they found him, he wasn't breathing and had no pulse. They brought him back, and they don't think he was down for more than a few minutes. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet. He's on a respirator, because he cant breathe on his own right now. He’s severely malnourished and dehydrated. He's running a low grade fever. He's had a CT of his brain, and we're monitoring for swelling. We’re doing a lot of other tests to determine what the drugs have done to him. And for other side effects from long term drug use. Its probably a blessing that hes out. The withdrawals would be terrible for him right about now."

“Withdrawals?’’ asked Dean. He was having a hard time taking all of this in.

“It looks like he developed quite a habit, after he left…” the nurse shook her head sadly. “Talk to him. Be there for him. Sometimes that helps more than anything we can do.” She squeezed Deans shoulder. “My name is May. Let me know if you boys need anything.” She walked off toward the nurses’ station, leaving the boys to themselves.

“Fiancée?” Sam whispered, now that they were finally alone.

“Shut up.” Dean shot back. “Only close relatives are allowed in the ICU. “

“You could have said brother. Made him Cas Smith…”Sam grinned. Dean just glared at his brother. He turned, took a deep breath, and slid open the glass door of the ICU bay.

Nothing could have prepared him for what was behind the curtain surrounding the bed. The form in the bed was gaunt, frail. Tubes and wires seemed to surround him. There were beeps from multiple monitors, and the whoosh of the ventilator that breathed for him. But it was Cas. Alive. Dean stepped up to the bedside.

“Heya, Cas. We're here. We finally found you. Sammy’s here with me, and you’re gonna be okay. Sam?” Deans voice cracked.

“Hey Cas. We missed you. We were so worried…Its really good to see you.” He stepped up to the other side of the bed, and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. Where muscle once bulged, Sam could feel the bone beneath the skin. He pulled his hand back and stepped away from the bed, shocked at the changes in the now obviously human Cas.

"I’ll get us some coffee….” Sam turned and left the ICU, hiding the tears in his eyes from his brother. Dean sat down in the hard chair at the bedside. He sighed heavily. Be here for him. I can do that, he thought. He cleared his throat.

“So, I guess I should fill you in on what happened after you vanished. Chuck and Amara called a truce, and talked it out. They’ve left humanity basically to itself, again. We dodged that bullet, huh?” Dean sighed. He grasped Cas limp hand. “You gotta come out of this, Cas. You gotta come back to us. We need you. I need you. We’ve been looking for you ever since you vanished. I was so afraid that we lost you for good this time. That we would find a charred set of wing prints on some wall…and…” He couldn’t finish. “Please, come back.” He whispered.

 

Sam had asked the floor nurse where the Chapel was. She gave him directions to a small room two floors down in the other wing. It was nothing fancy, just a few pews, a little stained glass and muted lighting. A simple wooden cross at the front. Sam took a seat in the back, careful not to disturb the few others praying there. He put down the kneeler, and slid off the wooden pew. Bowing his head, he spoke softly. 

“Chuck. God. We found Cas- Castiel. He’s unconscious. And sick. So sick. I can see it, how bad he is. And he won’t wake up. I know You’re busy…with Amara and all…but he could really use Your help…Please help him. We just found him. Please don’t take him away from us. Don’t take him away from Dean.” Sam paused, not knowing what else to say. “Amen.” He finished, crossing himself. He rose and left the chapel quietly, and went to find the coffee he had promised Dean.


	3. Prognosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chat with a neurologist.

It had been two days since their arrival at the hospital, and Cas still hadn’t regained consciousness. Sam had booked a motel room nearby. When he told the clerk he didn’t know how long they’d be staying- that they were visiting a very sick relative at the hospital-she gave him a sympathetic smile, and a hefty discount. Not that they needed it on fake credit cards, but the kindness of the gesture wasn’t lost on Sam. The hospital staff was also very kind, and let them stay around the clock, despite hospital rules. 

Sam tried to get Dean to allow him to watch over Cas in shifts, to let Dean get some sleep at the motel. Dean would leave when Sam came in to watch, only to show up (showered and fed, at least once in a while) two hours later. The only place he seemed able to really sleep was in the hard plastic chair at Cas’ bedside, with Cas’ hand in his. When Dean woke up, he’d spend hours talking to Cas. Asking him why, begging him to open his eyes. After a while, he’d just sit silently, holding Cas’ hand. On the morning of the second day, just after shift change, a doctor entered Cas’ room. Both Sam and Dean were there.

“Hi. I’m Doctor Mepps. I’m a neurologist. And you are?” They introduced themselves, and Dean mentioned his relationship to Cas. The Doctor frowned a bit at this. He motioned for both boys to take a seat. The room was silent except for the sounds of the equipment keeping Cas alive.

“Well, we have the preliminary results of his tests. The good news is that there is no swelling of his brain from the overdose, and no apparent damage from oxygen deprivation while he was flatlined. He must not have been down for very long, or we’d see obvious damage. He’s very lucky for that. But we have no idea why he hasn’t woken up yet. We’re going to try to at least get him off the ventilator later today, and see if he can breathe on his own. That would be a definite step in the right direction.” The doctor smiled.

“And the bad news?” asked Dean, knowing that talks like this were ALWAYS a double edged sword. The doctors smile faded and he sighed.

“The bad news is that his kidneys are shot from the chronic drug use, and his immune system is almost non-existent. So he’s not eligible for a transplant.” He looked at Dean, sternly. “And if you two were…intimate, you need to get tested.”

“Tested? Why? For what?” He asked, not seeing his brothers face fall at the doctors’ words. Sam had already pieced it together. “No. We hadn’t, yet. We were waiting. What would I need to be tested for?” The doctor looked uncomfortable, but needed to be truthful.

“When we test overdose patients, especially IV drug users, we routinely screen for STDs. Castiel is HIV positive. His immune system is so bad, and his T-cell count so low, that his condition is actually considered full blown AIDS.” Deans eyes went wide, then closed in pain. AIDS. No cure. Cas was…. He was silent for several minutes.

“How?” He asked, softly.

“Do I really have to give you THAT talk?” The doctor asked. Dean sneered at him.

“No, smartass. I know how you get it. Shared needles. Unprotected…sex.” The thought of him with anyone in that way made Dean physically ill. He took a deep breath. ”I meant he was only missing for six months. How can he be that sick, that soon?”

“The disease is unpredictable. It becomes severe more quickly in some patients than in others. It hits especially hard in addicts, who are usually also malnourished because of their addiction. They become especially vulnerable to the secondary infections and diseases that AIDS patients die from. Castiel’s condition is severe enough that, if he wakes up and recovers, you may want to consider moving him straight to hospice care.”

“Hospice? IF?” Dean choked out. He went completely still. Then his eyes narrowed. He surged from the seat, and the portly balding doctor suddenly found himself pinned against the wall, Deans hands on his collar. Sam made no move to restrain his brother.

“Listen here, you arrogant prick. He’s not just some addict. Not to me. Not to us. He’s family. And WHEN Cas wakes up and recovers, he is coming home with us. After all he’s been through, we are not leaving him with strangers. Sam and I will care for him until…until…” Tears flowed from Deans green eyes, and his shoulders slumped. He let go of the doctors’ coat. The doctor looked at Sam, hoping He’d be more sensible. Caring for a dying immune compromised patient was really hard on the family.

“Deans right. Cas is family. He comes home with us.” Sams face was stormy.

“All right. “Said the doctor. “But if this happens, I’m putting it in my notes that you’re doing this against medical advice. And I’ll be sure that you get a full list of support services in your area. You don’t have to do this alone, you know.” Dean had returned to the chair, his head in his hands.

“Thanks, Doc.” said Sam. “But if you don’t mind, we need some time alone now. This is a lot to take in.” The doctor nodded, and handed Sam his card.

“Call me if you have any questions.” He gave a sympathetic look in Deans direction, and left.

Sam walked back to his brother, and put a hand on his shoulder. They just stayed like that, silently, for a long time. For once, Sam had no words.

“He’s dying, Sammy. Cas is….” Dean sobbed.

“I know.” Sam whispered.


	4. Risen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is removed from the ventilator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for any glaring medical inaccuracies.

Dean eventually settled, but refused to leave Cas side. He became even more protective, practically growling at the nurses who came to check on him and turn him. He talked softly to Cas, telling him how sorry he was that it had taken them so long to find him. Sorry that he hadn’t been there for him. How, if Cas would just wake up-would get better, they could go home to the Bunker. Told him that he was going to take of him, always. He would never be alone again, not like that.

Later that day the attempt was made to take Cas off of the ventilator. The machine was turned off, and the on call doctor unhooked the tubing from the mouthpiece. There was a long pause after he pulled the tube from Cas’ throat as they waited for him to breathe on his own. A nurse stood by with a kit, ready to re-intubate, if needed. Thirty seconds went by. Forty-five. Nothing. The doctor nodded, reaching for the tubing that the nurse held. He readied the scope.

“C’mon, Cas. Just breathe.” begged Dean. Sam prayed, silently.

There was a loud gasp as Cas took his first independent breath in four days. He breathed in and out harshly a few more times, coughed, and then settled into a more steady rhythm. Through all of this, surprisingly, he never woke. The doctor stepped back, observing for a moment. He spoke briefly with the nurses before leaving the room.

“Good job, buddy.” Dean breathed a sigh of relief. The monitors showed that Cas’ oxygen level was low on room air, so the nurses set him up with a nasal cannula and made sure he was as comfortable as they could make him before leaving him and the brothers in peace. Silence prevailed, except for the monitors. It was so much quieter now, with the ventilator off.

“When is he gonna wake up, Sam? I would have thought that..that..being taken off the vent…That was harsh.” Dean said softly.

“I dunno. I thought that he would, have, too. But he will, Dean. He will.” Sam sighed. They had not eaten yet today, and Deans belly gave a loud rumble.

“Listen, you need a break.” Sam said “Why don’t we grab a bite in the cafeteria. He’ll be fine for a few minutes. He’s breathing on his own, now. And the nurses promised to text me if something comes up. C’mon. Please?” He gave Dean a puppy eyed look. Dean relented.

“Fine. But let’s bring it back here. I don’t wanna be gone too long.” Dean went to Cas’ bedside and took his frail hand.

“Just stepping out for a second Cas. Gotta feed the Moose, again.” Sam snorted. “ We’ll be right back, ok? Don’t go anywhere.” He joked. Dean looked for some sign of recognition, of consciousness, but there was none. He sighed, and squeezed Cas hand, settling it back on the bed. He followed his brother from the room.

 

The line in the cafeteria was long, and it was a full forty minutes before they returned to the ICU floor, bags of food in hand. Sam had gotten a salad with light dressing, and Dean a sandwich and chips. As they exited the elevator, they saw a man in a Catholic priests’ collar emerge from Cas’ room. Exchanging a panicked glance, both dropped their bags of food and sprinted for Cas’ room, nearly knocking the strangely familiar priest over in their rush. 

“Sorry, Padre!” Dean yelled back at him without turning. Had something happened? Had Cas…? Had he been given Last Rites? Who called the priest, anyhow? And why hadn’t the nurses texted them immediately if he had…?

They entered the room to find Cas awake, sitting up in bed. A trio of nurses were checking his vitals and fussing over him. One of them jokingly called him “Lazarus”. He was pale, and tired, but smiling. He looked over as the boys barged into the room. Dean rushed to his side.

“Cas! Thank….We saw the priest leaving your room, and we thought...” Dean stopped, swallowing hard. Cas’ gaze had become sad and soft. His blue eyes were suddenly wet with tears.

“Cas. Say something. Please.” Dean begged. Cas gaze dropped to his hands, where they lay in his lap. His expression was subdued. He could not meet Deans eyes. 

“Hello, Dean. Sam.” He said softly, his voice rough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual non ownership disclaimer....


	5. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas' feelings about...everything.

The nurses fussed over him for a few more minutes but finally left to summon the neurologist to witness the ’miracle’ that had just occurred. The trio sat a while in silence, with Cas still unable to meet their gazes. Finally, Sam spoke up.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Come on. Talk to us.” The words, pent up for so long, spilled from Cas’ lips in a rush.

“I…ran away. I abandoned you. I must have. I was so far away when I came to myself, and Lucifer had already fled. I didn’t even return to the battlefield or the Bunker to check on you, to see if you still lived. I am the coward who left you to die. And the things I did, afterward, from the guilt and despair- all the drugs, the… rest. I am broken, Sam. Contaminated. Unclean. I am so ashamed.” He hid his face in his hands. Dean moved to sit beside him on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You didn’t run away. You and Lucifer fought bravely." Dean said "Amara sent out a blast to disable Lucifer. You both vanished before our eyes. We thought you were both dead until Amara mentioned that the blast had only sent you away, and that Lucifer had already left your vessel before the blast reached you. We haven’t stopped looking for you since then. We’ve been keeping our eyes out for angel related events, always wanting it to be you. It never dawned on us that you could be human, again. Maybe we would have found you sooner if we had realized… As for the rest of it, it doesn’t matter. You’re human. Humans make mistakes.”

“I’ve made so many mistakes over time…and not just as a human.” He took a deep breath to continue, and turned to the older hunter. Anger and self-loathing filled his eyes. “Why exactly are you here, Dean? Why do you bother with someone who can’t seem to get anything right, as an angel or as a man. You both should just leave me here. Return to the Bunker, to hunting. Don’t saddle yourselves with a broken…being like me.” His eyes dropped once more.

“Remember when I said that I’d rather have you, cursed or not?” Dean asked. Cas nodded. “Well I MEANT that. Cursed, broken, whatever. You belong with us.”

“I heard everything, Dean, while I was…out. It was like I was trapped inside myself. Like when Lucifer had control of my vessel. I heard it all, though. All the things you said. All the things the doctor and the nurses said. I know I’m sick… dying actually. I know-I understand-the disease I carry. I understand that I am STILL addicted to the poison that I willingly put into my body. I may have slept through the withdrawals, but my body- and it IS mine, now- still craves it. As I said, I’m contaminated. Unclean. I’m dying of a condition brought on by my own weaknesses. And I deserve this, all of it. For all the wrong I’ve done since…" His voice became soft. "You should let me be. I can go into hospice care, where I won’t be a burden to you or Sam in my final days.” Dean put his hand under Cas chin, forcing him to look into green eyes which now flashed with anger.

“Listen here, you sorry ass son of a bitch.” Dean growled low. “Get it through your thick skull that you are FAMILY to me and Sam. As Bobby taught us, family doesn’t end in blood, or begin with it. And family doesn’t abandon each other, even when things are really rough. Especially when things are really rough. Family looks after each other. You are going to get better, and you are coming home with us to the Bunker. We’ll take care of you until…well, just until. End of discussion.” Sam spoke from where he sat by the bed.

“Deans right, Cas. You’re family. You belong with us, in OUR home. Your home. Always.” He went to the other side of the bed, sat down, and wrapped an arm around Cas other shoulder, leaning in close. There were tears in the ex-angels’ ocean blue eyes. 

”I don’t know what I have done to deserve you two. I am truly not worthy, but my Father has blessed me, anyhow.” Both boys held him as he cried.


	6. Freedom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas improves, and finally gets out of the hospital.

It had been six days since Cas had regained consciousness. On the evening of his awakening, they had moved him to a regular hospital room. He continued to improve as the days passed, and was finally allowed solid foods. His vitals stabilized. His kidney function, while it did not improve, got no worse. The same was true of his T-cell levels. His oxygen levels were good on room air, and his fever had vanished, thanks to heavy doses of antibiotics. Both Sam and Dean spent as much time with him during those days as the hospital staff would allow. They spent the time talking, playing cards, and watching terrible daytime TV. They even caught a Dr. Sexy marathon.

On the morning of the seventh day, it was decided he was well enough to go home, since he obviously had a dedicated support system in place. Still pale and shaky, Cas sat on the bed, finally dressed in real clothes that Dean had bought for him the day before.  
“So, Lazarus is truly rising” The nurse who brought his discharge instructions quipped. “You know, you truly are a miracle.” Cas just smiled shyly. The nurse put a gloved hand on his shoulder. “I think that angels were watching out for you that day.” Sam and Dean both laughed. Cas just looked embarrassed. The nurse looked offended.  
“Why is that funny? You don’t believe in angels?” She asked.  
“Yes, we believe. In angels. In Ch…God. It’s a long story. “Dean smiled at her., and then looked to Cas. “Let’s just say that we have an abundance of faith.”

They had finally gotten out of the hospital, and had decided to stay one more night in the hotel before hitting the road the next morning for home. Sam got another room when they got there so that Cas would have his own bed that night. Dean sighed as he dropped the room key on the table by the door. A thought struck him, and he looked at Cas where he sat on the further of the two hotel beds.  
“Cas, I gotta ask you something.”  
“Anything, Dean.” Cas replied  
“I’m pretty sure that they fingerprinted you when you came in with no ID. Why didn’t they ID you as your vessel, as Jimmy Novak?” Cas sighed.  
“When this vessel was destroyed and remade, the first time, Jimmy’s soul ascended to Heaven. When I later found myself alive, I changed them out of respect. Because I was no longer that man I had no right to his identity. And now that Amelia is with Jimmy, and Claire…well, she knows the truth. I guess no one is looking for him anymore.” Dean nodded.  
“I’m surprised that Claire didn’t show up at the hospital.”  
“I don’t know that she’ll ever truly forgive me for taking her father from her. I understand, though. I just wish there was a way to make it up to her.”  
“She’ll understand, someday.”  
“I hope so.” Cas groaned, and stretched out on the bed.  
“I know you’re beat, but one more quick question.” Cas looked up at him.  
“Who was the priest in the room the day you woke up?” Cas looked puzzled.  
“There was no priest…only…” He closed his mouth quickly, his face suddenly guarded.  
“Only what?”  
“It isn’t important. I’m tired Dean, and we have a long journey ahead of us. You should sleep too.” Cas took his evening meds that the hospital had given him. He undressed to his boxers and t shirt, crawled under the thin covers of the motel bed and turned to face the wall.  
“Goodnight Dean.” Dean wasn’t sure what he had said to upset Cas. Had mention of one of his Fathers lackeys made him angry? He sighed, knowing he’d get no more out of the former angel tonight.  
“Goodnight, Cas. Sleep well.”

In the room next door, Sam once more knelt in prayer at his bedside  
“So, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Cas is better, that he’s coming home to the Bunker with us. But he’s still so sick. He’s still dying. Where are you? Why won’t you help him? He needs you. Please. Help him. I will give anything, do anything that you ask of me. Just please, save him. For Dean. For me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual non ownership stuff here...


	7. Finis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally gets to go home.

What had been a two day journey there took the better part of five days on the return. They let Cas sleep in as long as they could every morning, and called it a day as soon as he became fatigued. They stopped often to eat or just to stretch their legs. Dean made sure Cas ate well, and that he took all of his medications. It had been a long trip but now, finally, they were home. Dean helped Cas out of Baby, while Sam unpacked their bags from the trunk. Cas looked sheepish as he leaned on the cars hood, suddenly dizzy. Dean rushed to his side, slipping under his arm for support.

“I’m not helpless, Dean.” Dean smiled at him.

“Never said you were. I just…just let me, ok? Because I need to do this…” Cas nodded.

“Ok. For you.” He allowed Dean to help him from the garage, into the Bunker.

Dean insisted on settling Cas in his room, on “the best mattress in the place.” At least until they got another room set up for Cas. Sam had already done some discreet searches for hospital beds, knowing that it would become a necessity somewhere down the road. He hadn’t given up on a miracle, but he was no longer holding his breath for one, either. Dean moved into the next room over so that he could be there for Cas if he needed anything. Days passed, and became weeks. Cas grew stronger with lots of rest and Deans good cooking. He smiled more-and even laughed occasionally-but the happiness never truly seemed to reach his eyes. They stayed shadowed and sad, almost grey instead of the vibrant blue they had been. 

It was a sunny Thursday, and Dean went to wake Cas. An outing to the mall was in order. Cas needed new sleepwear and a short venture out would do him good. He paused when he heard voices coming from behind Cas closed door. Who was with Cas? It wasn’t Sam. And one of the voices was…female. Both seemed vaguely familiar. Angels? Had the wardings failed? Not possible. So, who? Dean knocked.

“Come in.” Cas sat on his…Deans bed. 

"Hello, Dean." Cas said, smiling. Dean returned the smile. Then he noticed the man sitting next to Cas. Another figure hovered by the now open door, but Dean paid that one no mind.

“Chuck! Thank…You! Now you can heal Cas, make him well again.” Both Cas and his Father looked up at Dean with sad eyes. Chuck cleared his throat.

“Dean, when I visited Castiel in the hospital, I did heal him. Enough.”

“Enough?" Realization dawned on him. "The priest! I thought he-You- looked familiar!” Chuck nodded.

“Enough. To give him time to say his goodbyes.” Chuck replied.

“What??” Dean was stunned. Cas spoke softly.

“I can’t stay, Dean. My time on earth is over. It’s time for me to return to my Fathers house. My soul will wait there for you and Sam.”

“No. This isn’t right.“ Eyes pleading, he turned to Chuck. “Heal him, Please.” Chucks voice was quiet, but unyeilding.

“I'm sorry, but I can’t change this. He doesn’t belong here anymore. Its nearly time.” Chuck nodded at the figure by the door. She stepped forward. It was the Reaper, Billie.

“Hello, Dean-o.” Billie smiled.

“What are you doing here?" Deans voice was angry, his fists balled at his sides. Billie looked at him, her eyes soft.

"I’ve been given the great honor of escorting the soul of an Angel home.” She smiled at Cas, who returned it gratefully. “It’s time. You boys need to say goodbye.” Dean hadn’t seen Sam enter the room, but turned as he heard his brother gasp. When he saw Sams bereft expression all the anger drained from Dean. Sam fixed his gaze on Chuck, a silent question echoing between them.

“I’m sorry Sam, I can’t do that.” Chuck said aloud. “Your time's not yet up. I still have work for you, and for your brother. ” Sam looked down, nodding. Tears were in his eyes. Cas spoke up.

“Dean, Sam. I need you to know how much you mean to me. Thank you for…everything you’ve done for me. For being there for me, even after everthing I've done... I am truly grateful to have you as my family.” Cas stood, and Sam stepped in and hugged him tight.

“I’d gladly take your place, if…” Sam dropped his gaze.

“I know. Thank you.” Cas replied. Sam stepped back, and Dean seemed unsure of what to do. Cas laid back down, suddenly weak.

“Dean, come here. Hold me, please.” He scooted over. Dean came over and laid beside him, oblivious to their audience, no longer caring what anyone else thought. He gathered the ex-angel to his chest. Sam sat on the bed and took Cas' hand. Cas looked up at Chuck.

“I’m ready, Father. “Chuck nodded. He touched two fingertips to Cas' forehead. The blue eyes closed, and his breathing became shallow. Dean held him tighter, whispering in his ear the three words that he’d never had the courage to say aloud.

“I love you.” Softly. Gently. Reverently.

“I know.” Cas smiled. 

Dean smirked. He’d been Solo’d. By an Angel. Cas breaths grew shallower, farther apart. He sighed. One more breath…and silence. Both boys shook with sorrow, tears streaming down their faces. They stayed like that, holding Cas, for a very long time. When they had finally gathered themselves enough to look up, the room was empty but for them, and the body of their angel, who was now at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual non ownership disclaimer. Well, there it is. Hope you enjoyed the ride.  
> A/N I may or may not do an epilogue of the funeral. We shall see.


	8. Fare Thee Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters say goodbye to their angel. An Epilogue. Sorry it took so long.

A few days later, they laid Castiel to rest. The body of the former angel had been carefully cleaned, and dressed in the Holy Tax Accountant outfit the boys had purchased for him the day after his passing. It was complete with a tan trench coat and dark blue tie, put on backwards. His hair was left in its usual state of muss.They figured that it was only right that he should go out looking just as he had when he came in to their lives. That morning, they’d wrapped him in the best sheets in the Bunker, soft Egyptian cotton in a lovely shade of green. Deans sheets.

They’d debated whether to bury him, or to burn his body. They were sure that he wouldn’t be back as a ghost or otherwise, that his Father had taken his soul to Heaven, but decided that he was due the honor of a pyre for all he had done. After all, he WAS one of them. A warrior. A Hunter.

Sam had reached out to Claire, letting her know what had happened and inviting her to the funeral. She said that even though her dad had been gone for a long time now, it was his body. Sort of. She didn’t know if she could do that. Sam gave her the date of the funeral, and she promised to try to make it.

At the beautiful spot they had picked, beside a lake with a fishing dock and trees all around, Cas’ well wrapped body was gently carried from the Impala by three of his own. He was laid reverently on the newly built pyre. Claire had showed up at the Bunker the night before. She’d spent the long hours of the night watching over the still form, alternately talking to her father and to Cas in low tones. The boys had just let her be.

The trio now stood by the unlit pyre to say their goodbyes. Claire spoke first.

“Goodbye, Dad. I hope you can hear this where you and mom are. I hope you’re happy there, together. I’m sorry I was mad at you all this time.” She looked over at Dean. “Dean was right. You are a hero. You gave up everything so that our world would survive. So that I would survive. Thank you, and...I am SO proud of you. I love you.“ She took a deep breath. “Goodbye, Castiel, you dorky little angel. I forgive you for taking my dad from me. I understand that you had to, to save us all, more than once… Thank you…for everything. I’m gonna miss you.” She sniffled. Sam spoke next.

“Goodbye, Cas. I’m sorry. That I couldn’t save you. That I didn’t ever tell you how much you meant to me. That I didn’t treat you as you deserved. As the brother you had become. I'll miss you, too. Farewell, Castiel.“

“Winchester.” Dean added.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Castiel. Winchester. He’s family. OUR family.” Sam nodded. Dean looked at the wrapped form. Cas could have been so much more to me, Dean thought. If I'd only said something before...He remembered the ring that he had slipped on the finger of the angels left hand before he had tied the last knot around the shroud. The ring that had belonged to his mother, and should have found its new home long before. Now, it was too late.

“Does that make me a Winchester, too?” Claire quipped. With a sigh, Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s not a lucky name, but yeah, you can use it any time you like, sweetheart.” Claire rolled her eyes.

“Thanks. I think.” Dean hugged her closer.

At last it was time. Dean stepped forward, and lit the kerosene soaked wood. As he stepped back to watch the flames consume the body, he spoke softly to Cas.

“This isn’t goodbye, Cas. We’ll be together again one day. I’ll…see you then. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual non ownership stuff...

**Author's Note:**

> Insert usual non ownership disclaimer here. Includes SPN and song that inspired the fic.


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